


Legacy

by Jenshih_Blue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Episode: s04e03 In the Beginning, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 11:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenshih_Blue/pseuds/Jenshih_Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years, she knew that she’d been granted ten years and she had to make sure each moment counted. She had looked into Death’s eyes, and she would never forget the gleam of wicked gold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legacy

Ten years, she knew that she’d been granted ten years and she had to make sure each moment counted. She had looked into Death’s eyes, and she would never forget the gleam of wicked gold. That night on the river should have been a moment of happiness to rival all things that had come before, but instead the darkness that had haunted her every step had taken a form she knew. She should have known, she should have stopped it, but as she sat in the dirt, tears gleaming in her eyes, and John’s lifeless body in her lap should have didn’t cut it. The face might have been her father’s but the eyes were not, they were the eyes of death, and despite all her training, all the warnings, and knowledge she made the deal.

Even now, she could see the stranger’s face in her mind, he was beautiful for a man, and there had been days she believed that he was an angel who’d come to save her. She’d only been nineteen when she married John, a month after her parents’ death, a month after the deal, sealed with a kiss from lips that had kissed her goodnight throughout her childhood, but cold as ice. No one ever knew what had really happened, not even John who she loved more than her own life. The world believed that her father had snapped, killed her mother, and then went after her. She told the police she’d grabbed her father’s knife, defended herself, and the man she’d loved. After all had been said and done, she was free to continue her life.

She’d believed at the time the demon would take something from her, perhaps her soul. She was a stupid child when that kiss had been shared, but she was a woman now, a mother of one beautiful little boy, and pregnant with her second child, although she hadn’t told John yet. Sitting at the kitchen table, she watched Dean playing with his fire truck in the middle of the floor, shaggy hair shadowing all too familiar eyes and she knew without a doubt. The young man who had visited her nearly ten years ago, the man who had vanished after the deal had been made was not an angel—he had been her son. The how and why had eluded her until she met Robert Singer. Robert was a hunter just as her father had been, he’d been touched by the darkness, and he’d become well known among the community in the short time he’d been hunting. He was an expert in demonology, a young man of thirty-two with a gruff appearance, but a warm heart.

After her parents death she’d sworn she would find the demon that had taken them from her and John—bless his naïve soul—never knew she stayed in contact with the others. He never knew what she had been trained to be or the mistakes she had made. One of her father’s contacts suggested that she contact Bobby, perhaps he would have the answers she was seeking. She had called him and although hesitant at first he agreed to meet with her. They’d met yesterday at St. John the Evangelist after she had dropped Dean off with her best friend Julie.

 

#

 

Stepping into the church was like going back in time, she’d been raised here, and she’d hoped to marry John with her father’s blessing here, but it wasn’t meant to be. The late autumn sun pierced the stained glass of the window in the choir loft and left a trail of sparkling colored light along the carpeted aisle leading into the sanctuary. She moved silently along the aisle and to where a man sat in the second row of pews, gaze focused on the crucifix above the altar.

“They say he died for our sins and he’ll…”

“Return one day,” she finished.

The man turned, eyes squinted against the light, “You Mary?”

She offered him a soft smile and nodded, “Yes, and I’m assuming you’re Robert.”

He stood and smiled back at her, tipping his John Deere cap, “Bobby’s fine ma’am.”

“You can call me, Mary,” she moved to take a seat next to Bobby, her gaze flicking to the crucifix, and released a soft breath. “Rufus says you have quite the reputation as a demonologist.”

Bobby turned and glanced at her, “I suppose so, but Rufus is a bit of an idgit, spends far too much damn time with his friends Jose and Jack.”

Laughing softly, she turned to meet Bobby’s gaze, “Dad used to say the same thing. Said hunting killed you either with the bottle or with what you saw.”

With a faint nod, Bobby reached out, his calloused hand settling over her own where she dug her nails into the back of the bench in front of them. “Talk to me, Mary, what is it?”

“I made a mistake,” she whispered, her gaze lowering to the floor beneath her feet. “I loved him too much to lose him and my parents.”

Bobby’s eyebrows drew together in a frown, “Who?”

Glancing up she released a ragged breath, her eyes shining with unshed tears, “My husband.”

And just like that, everything came pouring out of her, the entire story of a stranger with moss green eyes, a hunt gone horribly wrong, and a deal made with Death himself. How she’d lied to the police and how the stranger, who she’d believed was an angel, she now believed was her son from the future. Bobby sat silently listening, his thumb caressing the back of her hand in a comforting gesture. By the time she finished, her face was wet with tears and her heart ached with the secret she’d finally revealed after nine long years.

“He doesn’t know—does he?” Bobby questioned softly.

She shook her head, “No, I was trying to protect him—save him. He didn’t deserve to die like that Bobby, not after fighting in Vietnam, and surviving to come back to me. If I’d only told him the truth in the beginning, but I just…”

“Would he have believed you?”

Lifting her head her eyes met Bobby’s and she swallowed hard, “Probably not, but now I’m scared to tell him. We have a son and I’m pregnant again. I think this demon didn’t want me, it never did.”

Pushing back his cap, Bobby scratched at his head, “Then what do you think it wanted? Anything a demon offers doesn’t come without a price, Mary.”

She lowered her hand to her stomach, fingers caressing the faint swell, “I believe he wants my baby, the one growing inside of me.”

“Why?”

Shaking her head she glanced back up at the crucifix, her hand continuing to stroke her stomach, “I have my reasons, Bobby. I don’t know why, but I just know that is the price he’ll come to collect for the debt I owe him and that can’t happen.” She glanced over at Bobby and reached in her purse, pulling out a small red box, the one that had once held the engagement ring that now along with her silver wedding band encircled her finger. “Take this,” she held the box out to him, eyes pleading, “and remember this date—November 3, 1983.”

Eyes going wide, Bobby studied her, “Why that date?”

“Because that’s the date I’ll die,” she whispered ever so softly, pain evident in each word.

“You can’t give up, Mary, not like that,” voice tightening with anger, Bobby accepted the box from her trembling hand. “You said yourself that you have one little one already and another on the way. What are they going to do without their mama?”

A faint smile tickled the corner of her mouth as she remembered the face of the stranger, her son Dean, “They’ll become what I never wanted for them, but I know they’ll take care of each other—angels and demons be damned. John is a strong man, but he’ll need help, even if he hates to admit it. When he comes to you, Bobby, do what you can for them.” She turned and moved out of pew into the aisle.

Standing up, Bobby called out, “What about the box?”

Pausing she smiled wide and glanced over her shoulder, “Inside is an amulet, my mother gave it to my father. He should have worn it as she wanted. It would have saved him that night given him the ability to fight that thing before it possessed him. It needs to be given to my youngest when he’s old enough. He’ll know what to do with it.”

“And when do I give it to him?” Bobby questioned eyes filled with confusion.

“You’ll know.”

She was gone before Bobby could ask anything else. He opened the box and there resting on the velveteen lining was a bronze amulet. He recognized the head immediately and he lifted his gaze to the front door of the church. She was definitely a hunter’s daughter and she knew her shit. Why she’d chose him he didn’t know, but she was counting on him to do as she had requested. Snapping the box shut, he shoved it in his jean’s pocket and headed out. It didn’t dawn on him until he was half-way back to South Dakota that she had referred to her unborn child as he. There was no way that she should have known that her second child was a boy.

 

#

 

Tonight, she would tell John about the baby she thought as she pushed up from the table. John would be home soon, exhausted and starving and she’d made his favorite meal. No matter how she looked at it, she couldn’t regret the deal she’d made looking at her life now. John was a hardworking, loving husband that would do anything to protect her and he’d given her everything that she’d ever dreamed of for her life—a wonderful home, a gorgeous child, and another one on the way. Ultimately, she knew he couldn’t save her, but she knew he would avenge her death, and make sure their boys were protected in his own way.

She sighed softly then called out to Dean, “Hey, angel, you want to help me with dinner? Daddy’s going to be home soon.”

Dean looked up with wide green eyes and smiled. “We gonna have pie, Mommy?”

“Of course, baby, we always have pie for you.”

 

~Finis~            


End file.
